


drunk drabbles

by alongwinter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 12:44:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17386679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alongwinter/pseuds/alongwinter
Summary: a collection of drabbles i write while drinking, oops





	1. things you said when you were crying

**Author's Note:**

> want one of these? click [here](http://alongwinter.tumblr.com/post/170769862907/hey-friends-so-i-do-a-thing-where-i-use-my)

Steve’s footsteps echo down the empty hallway, the white floors reminding him of the hospitals he spent way too much time in as a kid. Looking down makes his chest ache with nostalgia, or homesickness, he isn’t sure, but it’s late, and he’s tired of pretending to be someone he’s not. Steve just wants to be Steve, not Captain America. 

In the 40s, the man used to make the suit. The uniform embodied what  _he_ stood for and what  _he_ represented, but now, it’s different. There are a million different people with a million different perspectives and they all use the man in the suit to push their agenda’s. Steve is just another prop for their political gain. 

He reaches the door, pressing his forehead against the cool wood before sighing, unlocking it quickly and going inside. You’re already home, he can smell the burning wick of the unscented candles you lit and his muscles are already easing, tired and vibrating with leftover tension. 

“Babe?” He croaks, kicking his shoes off at the door and hanging his jacket on the hook. 

“In here, love.” You walk in softly, your footsteps hardly making a sound and he loves you even more for the quiet. 

He can’t take his off you, your rumpled and imperfect form is a safe haven for his troubles. You look like a collision of worlds, the embodiment of everything he wants to cherish and protect. Sometimes, Steve thinks he loves you so much he would live for you. 

“Come here,” you whisper, arms open and warm. 

Stepping into you, he is tall and overpowering, but the second your skin touches his, Steve is 95 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones again. Your hands slip under his shirt, fingers running over the knobs of his spine he can still feel, and you press. 

Steve’s joints ache from the ice and seventy-three years of unforgotten illnesses. 

He falls into you, losing himself as he cries into your shirt, mumbles of “ _I want to go home_ ,” “ _I don’t want to be him,_ ” and pleas for a mother that isn’t there anymore fall onto your shoulder. You hold him up like the world fails to do until his weight is too much and you grunt. 

Pulling back, Steve smiles halfheartedly at you, apologies starting to form on his lips before you shush him, gentle, and smile up, free and open. He looks underneath and finds you a little bit broken. He leans down, kissing away the scars he doesn’t want to place on your shoulders. These are his burdens to bare.

“I ran you a bath,” you whisper, hands running up and down his arms, “It’s still warm if you hurry.”

He nods, pulling you with him as he strips, tossing his clothes in piles he won’t remember to pick up and you laugh, the sound mellowing his despondent mood. You step in the water first, shivering at it’s liquid touch and moving yourself to the back. Steve follows, leaning his body on your chest and curling up, feeling small and safe in your arms. He looks up, eyes wet and red from sadness. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, watching your face. 

“Don’t thank me,” you sigh, kissing his forehead and squeezing him tighter, “I love you, and I just want to show you that.” 


	2. "quit it, or i'll bite"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: the drunk drabble idea is super cute! can i get "quit it or i'll bite" from list 1 w/ bucky??

You reached across, side-eyeing your boyfriend as your hand reached into the popcorn bowl. His eyes were trained on the television, the movie playing out in front of you innocently. Smirking with mischief eyes, you slowly pulled your hand out, sliding closer and closer to his side until —

“ **Quit it, or I’ll bite** ,” Bucky mumbled, pulling your fingers to his face and giving you a look. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You whispered innocently. 

He rolled his eyes, “You’re trying to tickle me because you’re bored.” 

“Can you blame me? You know I don’t like these kinds of movies.”

“I know, but Steve picked it so we have to be nice. If you quit distracting me, we can watch Mulan again when we get back to our room.”

Your eyes lit up as you smiled, “Promise?” 

“Promise,” He said, bringing your hand to his face and kissing each finger. 


	3. dirty talk (18+)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “You’re the queeeeeen of dirty talk! Can I get #21 on list 6 w Bucky? I’d like to stay anon tho”

“Come on sweet thing,” Bucky said, hips grinding into yours beautifully. The curled hairs on his groin tickled against your own pubic mound, a teasing touch on your sensitive and overheated pussy. “Gimme one more, lemme feel that cunt clench.”

“I-I can’t,” you moaned, gasping as his hand came down to slap your thigh lightly. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, hips lifted slightly for a better angle as he thrust. “It’s too much, it hurts.”

“Are you safe wordin’?” he asked, slowing down before you shook your head no, knowing you weren’t stopping at all if you had any say in it. “Then you can give me another. I know you like a lil pain, dirty girl.” 

Your hand slid down your body, needing to touch your clit so you could come. So close to the holy grail, his hand came out to slap yours, metal fingers wrapping around your wrist and pushing it above your head. You whimpered, cried out as he restrained you so deliciously. 

“Now, darlin’, you know that pussy belongs to me. You also know you shouldn’t touch my things, baby.” He grinned down at you, sweat causing his hair to stick to his skin in places. Leaning down to kiss you, his hips rolled in slow and methodical movements, the base of his cock grinding into your clit. It was almost enough, so close to being just right that you whined, desperate. 

He chuckled, deep and dirty, “Aw, does the lil whore want to come? Wanna make me all messy with it?”

You nodded, trying to swivel your hips in suggestion before his full weight fell on you, leaving you sufficiently pinned to the bed. 

“What’s the magic word, baby?” His hands trailed up your sides, soft and ghost-like in their touch before he cupped your breasts, thumbs rolling your hardened nipples before pinching and pulling them, your pussy clenching around him in response. 

“Please,” you whispered. 

“Please what?”

“Please make me come, I want to come.”

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, kissing you softly before rising on his elbows once more, thrusting harshly with each word, “I’ll make my girl come again, and again, and again.”


	4. "this is... exactly what it looks like"

“This isn’t what it looks like,” She said, staring at you with a void and empty expression. You’d seen her at work before, of course, but not in the middle of the action, much less in your shared home. It was a stark contrast to the way she was with you, soft and vulnerable. You treasured every minute with her. 

You sighed, placing your bags on the only undestroyed countertop, “So you aren’t totally maiming that man in our living room?” 

You gestured toward the guy on the floor, his vest slightly bloodied and ripped, jagged edges from where it had torn on your coffee table, which was now shattered on the floor. This would take forever to clean, not to mention Natasha would want you both to move, despite the amount of work you had just finished in the house. Placing your hand on your forehead, you looked toward her with an incredulous expression on your face. 

“ **This is… exactly what it looks like,** ” Natasha said, looking around the room. Her face was almost innocent despite the splatter of blood across her cheek. 

“Tasha,” you whined, stomping your foot slightly in childish annoyance, “Are we going to move again?” 

She sighed, “You know we have to. I need to keep you safe, you have to understand that.” 

“I know, I do.”

“I’m sorry, котенок“

You reached and grabbed the dish towel, stepping up to her slowly. Your hand reached up, grasping her chin softly as you wiped the droplets of blood off her face. Finishing up quickly, you tossed the cloth behind you and pressed a kiss to her lips. 

“Don’t be,” you sighed against her mouth, “As long as we’re safe, I’d move anywhere for you.”


End file.
